“You’re already soaked,” he growls. “You want to come on my tongue? No rush, though. I’d love to go down on you for days. Too bad this is just a one-night stand.”
I moan loud, no shame left in me. “Yes. Mmm. Yes. Oh God. I’m so close.”
“Good girl.”
He eats me like it’s his last meal. Messy, filthy, relentless. My hands slam against the wall as I try to stay upright. But hedoesn’t let up. He keeps going, keeps groaning, like helivesfor this.
When my legs start to shake, he pulls back just enough to growl, “Yeah. That’s it. You taste so sweet.”
That does me in, and I whimper loud as hell, digging my fingernails into his thick head of hair, which only seems to spur him on.
When he’s made me orgasm thoroughly, he stands, turning me roughly to face the wall, his hands gliding up my inner thighs and palming my ass. His body pins me there, cock thick and hard behind his jeans, pressed against my backside.
His hand grips my jaw, tilting my head back so he can speak low in my ear.
“You want it?”
“Yes,” I pant. “Please, Logan.”
“Damn right. You’re at my mercy,” he murmurs, voice thick with promise. “Are you ready for me to take good care of you?”
“Yes,” I breathe, pulse racing. “But…hold that thought. I need to use the ladies’ room.”
He chuckles, presses a quick, searing kiss to my lips, and lets me go with a soft smack to my ass. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
When I step out a minute later, my breath catches.
He’s stripped down to just his briefs—broad chest, cut abs, the outline of his cock stretching the fabric and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.
The toys we picked out are already laid out at the foot of the bed, like an offering.
His gaze rakes over me. “Top. Off.”
I reach for the hem, but he’s already crossing the room. “Let me.”
His fingers slip beneath the fabric, dragging it over my head, carefully. My breasts fall heavy, nipples already tight from anticipation and the cool air.
“Fuck,” he growls with a grin, eyes locked on my chest. “You are so damn hot.”
His hand cups one breast, thumb brushing lightly across my nipple, and I gasp.
“Now,” he says, voice dropping, “get on the bed. Lie back. Arms up.”
My knees wobble, but I obey, crawling onto the mattress and lying down, heart pounding. Logan follows, attaching the restraints one by one—soft cuffs around my wrists, then my ankles, spreading me open and locking me in.
“You’re mine tonight,” he whispers, brushing his fingers down my stomach. “You’re going to do exactly what I say.”
I suck in a shaky breath as he reaches for the blindfold.
“And once you can’t see me?” he murmurs against my ear, “every little touch, every sound, every tease…it’ll drive you wild.”
He slips the fabric over my eyes, and I see nothing but darkness.
And then his lips press warm and sure at the base of my throat.
“Let’s see how long I can keep you begging.”
The blindfold darkens everything, heightening the sensation of his mouth as it travels, slow and reverent, down my neck…across my collarbone…between my breasts.
